Solace for South Tyrol
by ConfoederatioHelvetica
Summary: South Tyrol feels neglected by her superior, North Italy. Who can help her? One-shot, based off a vacation I had.


She felt sad, no, depressed. But she had almost nothing to complain about.

Almost nothing.

She was South Tyrol, A region. A deputy of North Italy's and member of his _Republica_.

Veneciano had given her the name _Alto Adige_. She detested it.

Almost nothing.

It would be nothing if it weren't for her heritage...

She was part Austrian

And proud of it.

She spoke fluent German, next to Italian, and she knew which she preferred. She ate predominately Austrian dishes and acted like an Austrian. Even her house was built in the Austrian style.

But she was Italian, and she couldn't change it.

Yet Italy seemed not to care for her...Why?

Was it her looks?

_No _she thought. She was beautiful after all.

Hazel brown hair, falling beneath her shoulders, large, dark-green eyes, the color of pine trees, skin, slightly tanned from the southern sun, a small nose, full lips and perfect, white teeth. She was dressed in a _Dirndl_, a traditional Tyroler dress which emphasized her slim frame.

_No_ she thought, a womanizer like Italy could not resist her natural beauty. Yet he preferred to hang around with that old hag _Lombardia._

Sure she had money. Sure she had fashion. Sure she had industry. But in natural beauty, there was simply no comparison between the two.

It had to be her heritage

She felt neglected.

She wanted to be a sovereign state, or better yet, belong to Austria like her twin brother, North Tyrol. They had so much in common.

But it was not possible. Not for her alone.

She was Italian, and she couldn't change it.

She had visitors to attend to, visitors that came to her place for relaxation, searching for the warmth of the sun in the south, while still feeling at home. Her house was perfect.

Sometimes, very seldom, it was Austria who came to stay. He took a room overlooking the valley and the river. Tyrol adored his skill on the piano, and listened at the door whenever he sat down to play.

More often it was the German brothers who came for a while. They wanted rooms next to each other, close to the bar where there would always be a fresh supply of beer waiting for them. Tyrol ground her teeth at the thought.

_Ignorant, disrespectful bastards!_

They usually acted as if they were at home, maybe even worse. Their manners were horrible...even when they were sober.

But she needed the money, and she relied heavily on those drunks for her income.

The last visitor came regularly, one week every spring and fall. He was the one staying at her house at the moment. He came because of the golfing, he said.

He didn't talk much.

He reserved a small room, always a small room. No luxuries like Austria. No excessive drinking like Germany and Prussia.

He was her favourite visitor by far.

South Tyrol picked up a tray, a notebook and a pen and walked out onto the terrace, which served as the open area of the hotel's restaurant. The Euro was low, so she hoped he would order something pricey.

He was rich

He was polite

He was quiet

The perfect tourist in her opinion

He was leant forward in his chair, examining the menu with a furrowed brow.

She felt nervous.

Were the prices still to high? He was famous for being frugal...

"_Grüss Gott_" she greeted him.

"_Guten Tag_" said Switzerland, a polite smile forming on his usually stony face.

Her heart skipped

"What can I get you?"

She watched him closely. He was in uniform.

_Does he ever take it off?_

Long blond hair, slightly ruffled but very clean.

_Does his sister cut it for him?_

His rifle leaning against the armrest of the wooden chair. Loaded, she assumed, ready for use.

_Why does he take it everywhere?_

She also noticed that his smile was slightly forced, and his green eyes, much like hers, reflected kindness. But she knew what horrors those eyes had seen, Unspeakable brutalities of centuries past. There was pain in his eyes. Others' pain...and his own.

But he was kind.

"A _Spezi_ please, and a _Leberknödelsuppe_ for me."

She waited. Was there more?

But he gave no sign of wanting to order anything further.

A drink and a soup, as a full meal. She should have known.

He was frugal.

She made a note and walked back into the kitchen.

A drink and a soup.

He was rich but frugal

She poured the soup into a bowl, added the Knödel and some Basil. She completely forgot about the Spezi.

He was rich, but frugal and humble.

She carried the tray outside to her guest.

She felt sad, and was trying to control herself.

He did not notice.

She placed the bowl in front of him, her hand, she was surprised to see, did not shake. She was trying to suppress the feelings that had welled up inside her. A combination of anger and self-pity. It was not Switzerland's fault...not entirely.

She was close to tears.

He did not notice.

She started to say "_Mahlzeit_", but the words got stock in her throat. She sniffed, and a single tear fell down into the steaming dish, a tear as clear as mountain spring water.

Only then did he look up, slightly surprised.

"Eh...What is it?"

She turned and ran, burying her face in her hands, sobbing.

She locked herself in the kitchen.

A while later she heard a knock

"Tyrol?"

It was him.

"_Geh weg!_ Leave me alone!" she shouted through the solid wood.

"What did I do? South Tyrol, please open...I am sorry, for whatever I did."

She opened the door.

A crack.

He had concern on his face. So he did have real emotions, he could feel sympathy.

"What is wrong?" he asked

She flung herself at him, and began sobbing into his shoulder.

"Eh...Eh...this is most uncomfortable..."

He was unsure of what to do, but after a while figured it out and gingerly put his arms around her, as though she would break at his touch.

"What is wrong?"

"I hate Italy! I hate him!" she shouted, her words muffled by the fabric of Switzerland's jacket.

"I do too, South Tyrol, but why do you?"

"He forced me into his Republic and he won't let me go, even though he doesn't care at all about me!"

She cried more, spilling all her tears onto Switzerland's uniform, soaking the sleeve.

"I am sorry...is there anything I can do to help?"

She looked up into his face, eyes now red.

_Switzerland_ she thought

He was wealthy and well organized. He ran a whole confederation made up of states that were almost countries themselves, not an easy task, and she never heard anyone of them complain about their life.

She knew that Switzerland was the envy of many other countries. She had even heard from Vorarlberg, one of Austria's regions, that she wanted to join him after World War 2, but he refused at the time.

And she wasn't the only one. South Tyrol knew many regions that lived around Switzerland who would have nothing against belonging to the confederation as well.

She would never be able to join Austria; he didn't want her to be part of him as much as she didn't want to be part of Italy.

But maybe Switzerland would…

"Free me" she said

"That is not possible...I cannot" he said with genuine regret.

"You can! You can!" she shouted at him.

He shook his head

"Rules are rules, and you legally belong to Italy, there is nothing I can do..."

"Let me become one with you" she begged.

"W-what?"

"I want to become one with you."

"B-but...I c-cannot...allow...I-I do not even know...how to..."

"Are your cantons not all one with you?"

"A-adopted...my sons and daughters..."

"And Liechtenstein?"

"A-adopted...sister"

"So you don't...?"

He shook his head, vigorously.

"But please, Switzerland...allow me...we can be happy together..."

"I-I do not think..."

"Please"

He looked down into her swollen red eyes, filled with despair and hope. Fresh tears were forming, her breath was heaving.

Was this the right thing to do? If he could help her this way, then he would. It was his duty, he recalled.

"D-do you really want to?"

"Yes, I do"

They went to his room.

As soon as he had turned the key, she flung her arms around him and kissed him.

He was shy, he didn't respond.

She released he grasp, then stepped away from him.

He was inexperienced, gasping for breath, shock on his face.

She reached onto her back, and searched for a certain string, then pulled.

Her dress simply fell away.

Switzerland closed his eyes tight, and started to shiver.

_Innocence_ she thought _this is_ _something new for both of us_

She approached him and put a hand on his chest. He shook worse than ever.

"Say it" she whispered to him, softly, tenderly "Please..."

Switzerland opened his mouth, but no words came out. She undid his uniform, revealing his athletic body.

"Look at me" she said

Switzerland's eyes snapped open, and he stared straight at her face, his gaze unwavering.

"Say it"

And he did.

"Become on with Switzerland, _ja_?"

"I am yours forever" she said

And they became one.


End file.
